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Women's capacity for orgasm is awesome. They can come over and over again, and still be ready for more! This capacity seems almost limitless. They can experience clitoral orgasms, g-spot orgasms, vaginal orgasms, ejaculatory orgasms, blended orgasms, and not only one but multiples of any of these! They've even been blessed with a body part, the clitoris, whose only purpose is sexual pleasure. This may all seem a bit unfair to men who typically reach a precipice, fall over the edge, roll over and go to sleep! Why is it then that so many women are frustrated rather than satisfied? Why is it that for so many loving couples, the female orgasm remains an elusive dream; one in which she's perhaps become resigned to sex that's pleasurable but not truly satisfying, or even worse, faking it to salvage her partner's ego. If it is really bad perhaps she fakes orgasm just to get the sexual ordeal over with! Or he sadly wonders: What's wrong with me? Why can't I make her come despite stiff fingers and aching tongue? His sexual self-esteem is wounded, and he secretly feels less of a man believing he has failed her. The first step on the path to freeing a woman's orgasm is for both men and women to understand that men do not give women orgasms. Women allow themselves to have orgasms. Despite popular belief, no matter how good a lover you may be, unless your partner can give herself up to the pleasures of her body, she won't have orgasms. This realization alone can open the door to women becoming orgasmic. It takes the pressure to "perform" off of men, and it frees women to take responsibility for their own sexual fulfillment. This is very important. If your woman is blaming you, and you may also be blaming yourself for her not having orgasms, it is quite possible, even likely, that you are both looking in the wrong place to solve the problem. Mind you, an unskilled, selfish, or insensitive male lover can be a real problem, and at the very least is certainly a dull bore. And to say that a woman is responsible for her own sexual fulfillment does not mean you revert to a slam-bam-thank-you-ma'am approach to sex and let her fend for herself. After all, the more skilled and attentive a lover is the more pleasure he himself receives, and although you can't give her an orgasm you certainly can help her to have one, or even lots of them. So even though it's not entirely up to you, there is something you can do to help. The biggest barrier to orgasm for women is mental distraction - thoughts that float into her mind, catching her in her head, and taking her away from what's going on in her body. As soon as she starts thinking, she is out of the moment and will lose touch with her senses and her pleasure. Some of these thoughts may trigger feelings of shame or guilt about experiencing sexual pleasure, for no matter how liberated our attitudes toward sex seem to have become, there yet exists the perception that "good" girls don't! Even today women are divided into categories of "virgin" or "whore". Those who engage lustily in the delights of the body are somehow morally questionable. You can help your delectable partner move beyond these pleasure stifling attitudes by letting her know how much you respect, admire and cherish her fully female sensual self. Tell her often, especially when you're making love, that it thoroughly turns you on to see her let loose the passionate side of her nature. This is not always easy for men to do. They may have internalized an unconscious conditioning that leads them to accept the rather misogynist belief that women can't be good and pure, and also be fantastic lovers. If they believe this, they are placing themselves in a very unfortunate situation. This belief system inevitably leads to the man selecting one woman for a partner, spouse and mother, and a different partner for an affair or mistress. Adultery is about the only option left to a man who holds such a belief system. The resulting deceit and lying force a separation between the couple and the relationship ends soon enough, for example in breaking up or divorce. In this scenario, the man is at fault and the solution does lie with him. Only a change in his beliefs will solve this problem. Sexual abuse is a horror and curse that is unbelievably common in our society. Women that have been sexually abused often have great difficulty in allowing themselves to trust their lover, let go into the sensual moment, and surrender to sexual ecstasy. If your lady is having difficulty experiencing orgasm; if you are a reasonably skilled lover; and if you have communicated to her that you honestly wish her to fully awaken as a sexual partner, then the problem could be some psychological damage from sexual abuse. Ask her about this with the greatest tenderness and caring that you are capable of. Be aware that many women actually blame themselves for their own sexual abuse, so this can be the touchiest of all possible subjects for discussion. If sexual abuse is an issue, it is advisable to encourage her to seek professional counseling or some other form of help. Besides worrying about whether they are "bad" if they really enjoy and want sex "a lot", many women worry about enjoying sex the right way. They worry about how they look, smell and taste. They worry that the cellulite in their upper thighs or the slight bulge of tummy fat may quiver unattractively. They worry about being "clean down there". They worry about how long it takes to reach climax, how much time their man has to spend stroking, licking, and caressing to help them fly over the mountain. All of these thoughts take them out of lovemaking. To help her stay in the pleasures of her body tell her with words and sounds and looks that you adore her, you love to devour her with your tongue, you could keep on touching her forever, it's a delight to you to give her pleasure. And mean it, because if you haven't learned how to enjoy pleasuring your partner, pretty soon you won't have one! Once she's able to relax into the joys of lovemaking and focus on the exquisite sensations her body can feel rather than listening to the demon distractors her mind can conjure up, a woman's path to orgasm is much clearer. With particular loving skills of your own you can assist her to break that path wide open. Most men enjoy having their genitals touched at any time, whether they're sexually aroused or not. This isn't usually the case with women. Think of the vagina as a "potential" opening, a magical door that will happily open wide to receive you, but only after you've called ahead to ensure your welcome. Be certain she's eager for your genital explorations by focusing loving attention on other parts of her body first - lots of kissing, neck nuzzling, tender strokes on back, shoulders and arms, then adoring caresses of her breasts. Only after you sense she's ready, through signs like rapid breathing, flushed skin, hardened nipples or enticing moans should you move to her vagina. Once your hand or mouth is at her sweet honey pot begin to explore it from the outside inward - outer lips, clitoris, inner lips, vaginal canal. Generally women reach orgasm most easily through clitoral stimulation. The clitoris is extremely sensitive to touch of all kinds. Often the head of the clitoris, the pointed tip, is too sensitive for much direct pressure, so focus your attention on the sides. Touch around the clitoris instead of right on it, at least until her level of excitement increases. The skin tissue of your fingers is not nearly as sensitive as the tissue around her clitoris. But the tissue of your mouth and tongue is an almost perfect match in sensitivity. Unless you are more highly skilled in using your fingers, it is a much safer way to start by using your mouth for oral stimulation of the clitoris. Experiment with different pressures, strokes and speeds. Ask her which ones she likes best. A good way to do this is to try two different touches, then ask her if she likes "a" or "b" better. If she's willing, invite her to masturbate for you so you can learn exactly how she likes to be touched. Many women are shy to do this at first but with some gentle encouragement she may really show her wanton self. It can be a great turn-on for both of you. Many men are actually quite frightened by a woman who is fully sexually awakened. They may doubt their own ability as a man to keep up, or to be able to perform adequately. They may fear that if she is too much woman sexually for him, that she may go elsewhere and find what she wants. It may help you to overcome this fear if you remember that you are not responsible for giving your lady sexual satisfaction. She must do that for herself. But if this fear is very strong, you may seek counseling help to deal with it. When you do find a particular stroke or caress that is really driving her wild, keep doing it and keep doing it and keep doing it. Don't change anything about it. Don't go faster, slower, softer, harder, or switch direction. Keep doing exactly the same thing until she lets you know she wants a change either through words or body movement. This holds true whether you're pleasuring her clitorally or vaginally with your fingers or your mouth. Keep going even if your hands or mouth get really tired! It's a good idea to wait until she is very aroused before entering her vagina either with your fingers or your penis. Generally if she's not wet, she's not ready. It's as simple as that. If your lover doesn't have a lot of natural vaginal juices even when she is fully aroused be sure to use a good silicone or water-based lubricant. Nothing can be a quicker turn-off than rough, dry skin rubbing on soft vaginal tissues. Water-based or silicone lubricant is better because oil can clog the sensitive vaginal tissue. The most sensitive part of a woman's vaginal canal is the first inch to two inches. It's here that most of the nerve endings are located, so when you first enter her concentrate most of your attention there. The elusive g-spot can usually be found in this general area, on the top of the vaginal wall, a couple of inches in. Imagine a glass lying on the floor. If you reach your first two fingers into the glass at the top, i.e., toward the ceiling rather than the bottom towards the floor, you should find it. It is difficult to reach the g-spot through intercourse, so you will find it much easier with you fingers than with your penis. There are also some interesting dildos and vibrators with just the right shape to reach the G-spot. Move your index finger or your first two fingers in a "come hither" motion (as if you were asking someone from across the room to come over to where you are) and gently stroke her. When you touch her g-spot you may notice a more bumpy or raised area of skin, but you may not. The best way to know you've found this highly intense love spot is by her reaction. Where you look is not quite as important as when you look. Unless she is excited through and through, perhaps from a clitoral orgasm beforehand, it can be difficult to find the g-spot. Stimulation of the g-spot can produce extraordinarily intense orgasms. As a woman is approaching a g-spot orgasm she may feel she has to urinate. This may immediately cause her to tighten up, stop, and pull back from the edge of bliss. If she can stay relaxed and keep going through that "have-to-pee" sensation it will pass and move on into deep waves of sexual delight. The woman should urinate before intercourse begins, so she can be more confident that the feeling that she has to urinate is a misleading feeling and can be safely ignored. For most women it is difficult to reach a climax through intercourse alone. This is because the sensitive clitoris isn't easily stimulated just by thrusting motions; the g-spot is difficult to reach with even a fully erect penis; and because often the male partner goes over the edge into ejaculatory orgasm before the woman has had enough action to bring her to the heights. If you touch her clitoris before and during intercourse, and if you've pleasured her vaginally by touching the g-spot with your fingers, the chances are much better that she will have a deep vaginal orgasm while your penis is inside her. Learn the strokes that turn her on. Tell her how fabulous it is that she's sensual and sexual. Let her know you adore her body and love to touch and kiss it for hours. Help her forget about trying to make orgasm happen and focus instead on thoroughly enjoying every moment of lovemaking. If you awaken your multi-orgasmic woman you are going to like it! enlargement manhattan penile penis enlargment pic before and after compare pnis enlargement pills penile enlargement doctor herbal natural penis enlarement herbal penis enlarement pills pnis enlargement before and after penis enlargement drug vimax penis enlargement pills product
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Once you will learn how to find the G-spot with your lady partner, and with the use of appropriate sexual positions to stimulate it, you can give her mind blowing orgasms time after time. But what is this G-spot, where it is located, and how will you know that you have really found it? A German doctor (a gynecologist) Ernst Graftenburg is the discoverer, which is why it’s called the “G” spot. The G-spot is an area inside the vagina, on its front wall. Strangely enough, this area can be stimulated by constant pressure and it often ends up in an orgasm. It’s not difficult to locate, as it corresponds directly to the area where the urethra is closest to the top of the vaginal wall. The G-spot does vary from woman to woman, so you will need to follow the directions below to locate it exactly. Using well lubricated two fingers, insert them carefully inside your partner’s vagina, touching the top of the vaginal wall. You will feel somewhere a lattice-work of muscle tissue and in that tissue is the G-spot. Be very careful how you touch it; do not hurt your partner! Too little pressure and your partner will be meaningless, while too much pressure and she will cause an unpleasant pain. Now that you have located it (you partner will gladly confirm to you that you have) see these three methods to use to pleasure your partner. •A very good method to stimulate the G-spot is while performing cunnilingus. Insert two well lubricated fingers and apply a steady and firm (but not rough) pressure to the G-spot. You can be very sure that after 20 minutes of cunnilingus, and pressure to the G-spot, your partner will experience a steady and profound orgasm. •The second natural way to stimulate the G-spot is by intercourse. The man will lie on his back and woman will mount on top, facing the man. The beauty of this position is that the man should do nothing at all, only have an erection. The woman move till she finds the G-spot herself, and she will apply just the correct pressure, using the man’s erect penis. Orgasm quickly follows. •Another sure sexual position to stimulate the G-spot is a modified missionary, of sorts. In this position, the woman will lie on her back, and the man faces her, sitting on his thighs. The woman now places her feet on the man’s chest with her legs apart. At this point the man will penetrate the woman, but does not move or thrust. He will just lean back a bit, insuring his penis is firmly touching the vaginal wall. The woman can move if she wishes to adjust the pressure. As it in position, the man’s penis will be tilting upwards pressing directly against the G-spot. Not long after the woman will experience a strong orgasm, as the clitoris is also stimulated. Stimulation of the G-spot one is accomplished by intense and constant localized pressure. Thrusting is not so effective as constant and strong pressure to the G-spot itself. Once learned, both partners will seek to return to its stimulation again and again. cheap pnis enlargement pills herbal natural pnis enlargement vimax penis enlargement herb do penile enlargement pills work penis enhancement excercises plastic surgery pnis enlargement pennis enlargement surgeries penis enlargment cream vimax penis enlargement pills product
The Stone-Builders [By their Weapons] [Big-chest was a reluctant hero, for the most part, that is, in killing the Stone-Builders; yet when he could, he did so of course, --but I say reluctant I suppose with reluctance; for it was not unlike everyone at this time to be disinclined to kill them, they seemed to be in the vein of the gods, un-killable: yet he killed them and fought them, more so than anyone else—less out of conviction than out of desire to avoid dishonor and social embarrassment for himself.] Said I [I, being: Short-legs], I had seen one time Big-chest walk into a campsite of theirs, the Stone-Builders that is, —I tried to tell this story to my brother, Stern-toes, once, but I never could explain it right, but I think he got the jest of it, if not the seriousness, we did both laugh at the Stone-Builders for hours on end, afterwards. As I was about to say, myself and Little-eyes witnessed this whole happening from a distance of course. The Stone-Builders were full of what they called: ‘wone, or wine,’ something along that order, some sounds take me back a bit, they had new sounds all the time, yes O yes, inventing new sounds like the growing of leafs on a tree, coming into our brains like new winds, dragging it into a mode of thinking more everyday, instead of being fond of the birds, and just living: eating, sleeping and dying—these words we never heard of before were floating everywhere in the air, ever since that is, the arrival of the Stone-Builders on the scene: before this, before Eve walked out of that Garden, things were dangerous, but much more quiet. Well, Big-chest, noticed one evening—not being too far in the thick of the foliage by their campsite [the Stone-Builders site]—they had killed a man-eater [lion]; there were four of them, called ‘soldiers,’ at the campfire-site, a resting place to them: just laughing, and drinking, and being playful like a group of little cubs: lion cubs—wild and whimpering [whiny] lion-cubs, that is exactly what they were like. I could see Big-chest laughing to himself—inside that big muscular oversized chest: as he watched them wrestle around with one another, actually they did get a little over physical with one another, like the wild boars whom would chase after one of us, wanting to eat us for a feast, and then they’d settle down again. It was a cold winter’s night that day, so there was a real chill in the air, and not all that much leafy undergrowth for us to hide or for that matter to slap the chill away: nor for that matter Big-chest: although he had a coat of hair all over him to keep him warm anyways—showed a bit of chill in his face also. Although—I was grateful for the few large trees with the plant-life tucked around me, it absorbed some of the wind—the brisk, cold winds seeping by us, around us, and almost through us: the shrubbery covered us, as we remained in the distant woods, with a pile of leaves up to our knees: leaves for warmth and camouflage, --camouflage being a plan incase we figured we’d have to duck, hide ourselves-quickly should they get the best of Big-chest, but we doubted that: Big-chest was just the opposite of us----mean,--plus as always, Big-chest was confident of his abilities, he stood in the woods, no shadow—not sure what he did with it, but he was cleaver; just a big blob of muscle, hair and sharp eyes, small squinty eyes pinned on the four Stone-Builders, at the camp site, and their man-eater, that was going to be his dinner. He was actually blocking our vision a bit, but I think he did that because he wanted to show his audience—which was us—who was the braver. I actually had some kind of a feeling for those men who were about the meet Big-chest, a gloomy feeling at best, and a thankful feeling: thankful, it was not us in their place; yet both I and Little-eyes, both surely held feelings of revenge for the Stone-Builders, and this was kind of a good time for the revenge to seep out, but I don’t care for revenge for the most part, not really, it takes too much energy, saps you—in review, all was quite mysterious to me. Then unsuspected, he walked into the camp, tall as a mountain, hairy as a leafy think forest, long, a very long mouth from ear to ear, his teeth showed—he walked reminiscent of the king of the Stone-Builders [I think he was mimicking him—he like to do such things], he must have seen him walk, for he was arched just like their king, head back, eyes slanting down as if they were subordinates; --among the four he crept up, not a word, not a sound, the dark-dragging behind him, the sky had very little light given by the stars, but it followed him overhead none the less, a cloud covered the moon—as if he and Big-chest were pals; now he had seen their weapons by the fire, where the dead lion lay, if anything, Big-chest was shifty: sly, observant: he was swaying his body akin to the huge trees in a storm, not sure exactly why, but I think it got his blood moving and his limbs more flexible for swinging when he used them for clubs—and it made for a good showing: his hands were as big as large branches of a tree: and as hard. Closer and closer he came to the fire, no one noticed him yet, can’t figure it out, no one, no one at all, --could they not hear him a little, just a tiny bit, I asked myself, for both myself and Little-eyes could hear his foot steps even in the woods, at twice their distance, I was about to learn we had better hearing than these new creatures. But then this new breed of course, can not have all the advantages, thank goodness, thus, our senses were better, we were tuned higher one might say, and they were tuned with more and a higher intelligence than we. His fingers now, almost touching the ground—I could see—he, he had long thick arms, and fingers, and perturbing muscles, he was impressive to look at, huge to digest with your eyes, and frightening if you did not see him on a daily bases, and dangerous to be around, at any time. Then all of a sudden two of the four turned their necks to see what was in back of them; not sure if they heard him, sensed him, or just did out of an automatic military checking ritual,--whereupon, they almost went into shock: two stood up, all four were some fifteen feet from their weapons. The two who were squatting, the closest to the fire, were in a panic, the other two were a little farther away, standing now, unsure, thinking. I think one was releasing himself; he made a puddle and was trying to cover it up by kicking dirt, how modest. I figured why waste your time, this was precious time, run, run, run: that is what I’d do, but I really was hoping they’d not run, I must have an evil side in me also, just like them; you know, they got this pride thing, and I was hoping they would stay with this pride and arrogance, and then as I stopped thinking for a moment, Big-chest knock it out of them, if that is, they had any pride left. I think I was starting to get like them, that being: aggressive thoughts. In any case, Big-chest took his right hand swung it backwards to build up momentum, and with the force of a giant tree, hit the head of one of the squatters as he was about to stand up, it sounded faintly similar to thunder, and I could hear it snap, and rip, similar to a timber falling after lightening strikes it, strikes a tree out of its roots, its stretching roots out of the ground. He fell on his chest, then pushing himself, flopped over and onto his shoulder as if it had nothing holding his head in place, like a dead fish flopping, jumping in a creek—he lost his inner breath. The other one tried to get to his weapon, but Big-chest, akin to lightening, jumped with one leap over to him, picked him up by one leg, his penis showing, as Big-chest looked strangely at it, as if to laugh at a small ugly worm, for they all liked covering them up for some odd reason, and Big-chest now must have figured out, he knew why. And we both in the bushes started to giggle, snicker, laughing at the sight—I wanted to say laugh again—but we had to hold our laughing inside our stomachs for a while, so as not to spoil his feat. Then after our expressions of amusement, a stern grin appeared on Big-chest’s face—I think he heard us—in any case, he tossed him into the fire when he got bored looking at him, after twisting him about for a few seconds, breaking his leg in several places I imagine, for I kept hearing crunches, as if bones were cracking, and then there was his screams. Then one of the two standing routed himself through the woods yelling something on the order of: “Hhhhh eel pppp...!” Not sure what that meant. The last one, I call him the brave one, or definitely I could call him the stupid one, or should I say foolish one, none-the-less, he pulled out a sharp object, about the length of his hand, and stood in front of Big-chest as if he was going to fight him. At this point I said, and Little-eyes thought: this was the end for him; he [the soldier] looked like a banana compared to Big-chest. I asked myself, ‘Is he crazy? Run, and run while you can,’ and I was on Big-chest’s side now, more than ever, but it didn’t sound like it for that split-moment, but I felt it was a little unfair, size and all. But the man, whom I am calling a brave-soldier, stood his ground, and actually looked at Big-chest in the eyes. My-gosh, the man must have been half his size, about 175 pounds, quick on his feet though, for he was dancing around Big-chest, trying to stab him, and poke him. He looked more like a bee trying to sting someone, but that just irritated him more. Big-chest had taken arrows out of himself one-hundred times before, I bet; arrows deeper than that knife would have ever penetrate, if the person had gotten a chance to lunge it into Big-chest, and he didn’t get that chance: and it never hurt him much: those pokes. These little wounds were nothing, --but should he leap and get a good stab possible in the upper chest of Big-chest, or eye, then I’d worry. To make a long story short: Big-chest just looked dumfounded at the figure in front of him dancing in a circle, and didn’t move very much, except around; I’ve seen Little-eyes close his eye-lids now, he knew, he knew what was about to happen, and with his waving quick long arms, Big-chest picked up the seven foot lionesses, and put it over his shoulder, the crazy Stone-Builder charged at him, and Big-chest with a quick sweep, with a turn, knocked the man flat on his back, onto the ground, he had hit him with the man-eater, as he balanced it over his shoulder. Then, somewhat, disparate, or so it seemed, reminiscent of a dying fish jumping about trying to get back into the water—he: Big-chest—kicked him in the mid-section of his belly, sweeping him into the fire like trash, now almost a dead fish. The Soldier could not move, he surely had a broken spine I thought, had he not, he would had gotten up and run fast out of the fire, and he didn’t: or couldn’t, for Big-chest couldn’t run with the man-eater on his shoulder so it was a good time to escape, if he could. But he didn’t, or couldn’t, nor do I think he intended to. But again, the man tried to move out of the fire with no suitable means other than his arms which were now on fire, for surely his ribs and legs were broken. Big-chest simply turned away from him as if he was insignificant, as I did myself. The defeat was predictable, and most unnecessary. I got thinking: what kind of creature fights when they cannot compete. It has always been the law of the land—to run, unless cornered: hence, when you can’t battle, don’t. It wasn’t necessary to die like that. I was learning about pride and arrogance quickly from these new creatures though; all in time and observation I told myself, and I’d be well informed on their unusual habits. 11 Early winter We had no way of knowing which winter would be good to us or bad for us, and winter this particular winter had come early, and therefore our food supply was exhausted, depleted that is, rather quickly. When Little-eyes and I returned back to the cave the following evening, we had told in our symbolic way: expressed at the Banana Cave that is, to the entire Horde how Big-chest had killed the Eve People. And you could hear the laughter for miles around. I tried to explain how Big-chest had seen or sensed their movements, their evil objective, and their killing intent: as he always seemed to be able to sense survival quite well; he had a special quality of seeing through a person to his evil side, as he could see through us, thus, he could see through the Stone-People as well. I explained how one of the men stayed to fight him, trying to outstare Big-chest, and got kicked into the fire, and died. They all shook their heads in wonderment, we were not the smartest of the inhabitants of earth, but that was sure dumb we all thought, no vocal language was needed for that understanding or response. I think Big-chest had taken his trophy to his cave in our area, and was having a formal meal at this time. We liked anyone who could out smart the Stone-People I suppose, they were smug and we were helpless to them most of the time; they had well groomed weapons, and we had simply rocks and some clubs, along with a few sharpened stones, as they now were being called, knifes, up to the appearance of the Stone-People, they were just tools. And so it felt good if anything, good to see the odds turn for once, and to be frank, they didn’t turn much, if ever in our favor after that episode. But our surprise would come in the morning: --yes, we would not be forgotten for once. Morning In the morning when several of us looked out of our cave entrances, in the center of the canyon below our cliff dwellings, as we often did to be sure we were safe from man or beast, in the open area in the valley below us, we saw half a lion torn open, lying in the center of our domain, for us, it was a treasure, a gift, a donation if anything, and all of us quickly ran to eat what meat Big-chest had left for us. Big-chest was not always so generous, or kind, but for some odd reason, he knew we were starving for some protean, and our bodies were starting to show our ribs. Aimless to say, this never happened again—not in such a quantity, but we all gave Big-chest a super big smile as we walked proudly out of our canyon-caves and ate the raw meat [for he appeared standing erect by a cave entrance observing the feast he provide]; yes, some of us even were tarring at the red meat, animal protein, liken to wolfs. 12 The Hermit by the Sea It was a short period of time from when Big-chest appropriated the lion [took it from the Stone-Builders] and we all ate the meat, when I joined the Horde in the valley on a crisp morning—a morning that told me, the seasons were about to change, thus, leading into spring; I could see my breath: it was so brittle, so I knew winters end was near. There was great commotion in the valley below, as there often was when someone or something new came about to celebrate, I had noticed from my cliff dwelling a gathering of the Horde, looking down, I quickly dashed along the sides of the cliff until I reached the floor of the valley to see what it was, as did Little-eyes, as I had woke him, trying to explain a happening was taking place. Thin-hips of the Horde [Sister to Moss] When I reached the bottom and many of the folk were going to and fro, some with sad and hungry faces, very sad posture, I made my way through several folks now gathered around this one section of the cliff; old-Moss, the Hermit by the Sea, was laying dead, his sister, Thin-hips, was there pacing, walking back and forth, kind of chanting, humming something, sounds on top of sounds—death had waxed his face I noticed. Old Moss was the oldest folk I had ever known, ever heard of. He must have been 60 or 65 years old—I doubt Big-chest was that old. No one ever lived that long, no one that is but Moss, I suppose. You could tell by looking at him, half his death was caused by starvation, the other by his long walk back to the Valley of the Caves, the strenuous walk; a walk many took to come back when they felt their time was short on this ground, like some fish, we all seem to know our dying ground; he came from the far off place, called the Great Cliffs by the Sea. I had only seen him when I was a kid and then once or twice coming and going, within a twenty-year period. He lived in the sand hills far from the Horde as I was saying, to the extreme East, and not far from there to the south was the Great Sea and the cliffs he always told his sister about, much larger than ours, higher than ours he’d say. He add, this place was somewhere between the Sea, and the cliffs, and the strait, and this valley was a flat area, plateau, this is where he wondered off too often, or so he’d claim, upon his return. He knew my father quite well, Long-arms, and did visit him, it was always when I was gone it seemed. They appeared to get along quite well, as one might expect, two strange folks to say the least; not sure what they had in common, matter of fact, if anything, one was lazy—my father, the other, Moss, was quite active I heard. The Great Sea But he did bring back information to his sister, who shared it with us, and of course he’d tell other people also of his journeys, or try to describe them best he could, and we were all quite interested in his tales—it was entertainment: yes he was a man of tales, I guess in one way I admired him for that, it was almost like some of the occupations the Stone-Builders had, or called occupations, which were really doing things by order of their king and getting fed by someone else because of the king—strange. Thus, Moss was our entertainer, and Moss did get fed by most of the Horde’s residents for doing so, I think they’d call him in to their cave to hear him talk, or draw pictures, or act out his strange adventures. Half the time we never knew what he was saying, but then, so what and it was amusement. Everyone liked him, and so did I.